


What are words?

by Emjen_Enla



Series: That's what we do. We never stop fighting. [11]
Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Conversations, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/F, F/M, Gen, Lurking Threats, M/M, Post-Canon, Slowly we're getting somewhere people, Sort of adjacent to a five times when fic in style I guess, at least I hope we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2020-07-19 09:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emjen_Enla/pseuds/Emjen_Enla
Summary: Five conversations which took place before Maxim Vasilyev came to Ketterdam.





	1. Conversation One: Inej Ghafa and Espen

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "What are Words" by Chris Medina, though I have to confess to only having heard covers of this song and never the original.
> 
> As far as I can remember this is the first fic in this series to directly reference the happenings of the Angsty Kaz Fic which currently stands as the first part of this series. I've been conflicted about whether or not I want people to read that fic as they enter this series for a while (its older than everything else and not as good), but the truth is that it lays a lot of groundwork which I've been building on ever since, especially in regards to Espen and his characterization so I can't really cut it. Still the reference here is rather small so you should be fine if you haven't read that fic.

All the gangs in Ketterdam had safe houses and boltholes of one form of another, in fact many of the merchers had them too. It made sense; Ketterdam was the kind of place where it was always a good idea to be able to disappear underground at a moment’s notice. The Dregs actually had several tiers of boltholes and safe houses. There were the general ones which everyone in the gang knew about, the slightly more hidden ones which only higher ranking members knew about, and then the top-secret ones which you only found out about if Kaz Brekker judged you trustworthy.

Back when Inej had worked alongside Kaz as the Wraith, the list of people Kaz trusted to know the location of these top-secret safe houses had been exactly one person: her, and she’d known he had even more boltholes she didn’t know the location of. Six years later, Kaz was a bit more trusting and the list of people was a little longer: her, Jesper, Wylan, the spiders, Anika and Pim.

That was what was causing Inej trouble in her quest to discover the origins of the fire which had almost destroyed Kaz’s letters from Vasilyev. If the papers had been stored in one of the less secure safe houses, Inej wouldn’t be having this problem. It would be obvious that someone had figured out about the letters and let it slip. However, the only people who’d known about this particular safehouse had been people Kaz trusted and had trusted for years. If one of them was working for another gang Kaz would have noticed long before now. So Inej didn’t know how to proceed. She’d questioned each person, but none could remember mentioning anything about the safe house. None had known there was anything in it, in fact, with the exception of Jesper and Wylan--who had seen Kaz run into the burning building to retrieve the letters--the rest had been under the impression that losing that safe house wasn’t any great loss compared to some of the others.

Inej was close friends with Jesper, Wylan and Anika, and she trusted them with her life. They were above suspicion. She was more inclined to be suspicious of the spiders and Pim, but she knew that was mostly because she wasn’t as close to them. Kaz wouldn’t have told them about the safe houses if he didn’t trust them as much as he did Jesper, Wylan and Anika. They were above suspicion too.

But still, something had been let slip somewhere. Tonight, Inej had tracked down the gangless thug who’d set the fire. He’d taken one look at her bristling with knives, pissed himself and told her everything. He’d been paid to rent the room directly under the safe house and start the fire. He didn’t know who had paid him; they’d worn a Komedie Brute costume and spoken on a pitch that made it difficult to tell if they were a man or a woman. None of that was helpful. Practically every petty thief in Ketterdam had used Komedie Brute costumes at one point or another, and Inej herself had learned to speak in an androngynous tone of voice for one of Kaz’s schemes--a truly brilliant one which still had the Guild of Ketterdam Goldsmiths convinced that their chapter room was haunted by a restless spirit.

Inej fiddled with one of her knives as she stared out across the darkened Ketterdam. The only point of light was the Church of Barter, because workers were toiling through the night to fix the damage the Dregs had done only days before. She wasn’t sure how to proceed. Someone must have gotten drunk and let something slip, or said something when they thought no one could hear. The problem would be figuring out who it had been without destroying relationships as callously as Kaz had when he’d realized Jesper was the one who’d let the Ice Court Job slip to Pekka Rollins years ago. She and Kaz had removed Jesper and Wylan from suspicion almost immediately, but there were still the others to question and placate. This was going to be unspeakably delicate.

Boots clanged on the roof behind her as someone leapt over from the nearest building. “Hello, Espen,” Inej said without turning around. “What are you doing in this part of town?”

“How did you know it was me?” Espen asked sounding rueful.

“Roeder would never have dared attempt that jump,” she said twisting around to look at him. “And Minna’s lighter than you are; she would have made less noise.”

“Are you questioning my weight?” Espen gasped in mock horror, putting his hand to his belly. “Oh, you crush me, my lady, especially in the face of beauty such as yours.” He winked suggestively.

Inej heaved a sigh. Espen was a very average looking seventeen year old boy. He was average height and had wild, generally unwashed blonde hair and acne. He was lean, but heavier than Kaz--though given that Kaz had gotten that skinny by practicing deeply unhealthy eating habits for more than half his life, that wasn’t exactly surprising. Espen was not particularly attractive and in Inej’s opinion he had the personality of a stick of dynamite--likely to blow your hand off if you didn’t get away quick enough. Despite this, being one of Kaz Brekker’s spiders must be the sort of thing that got girls these days. It had obviously gone to Espen’s head. “Do not flirt with me,” Inej said. “It’s embarrassing for both of us.”

“Oh, of course,” Espen said, sobering. “You’re Brekker’s girl.”

Inej let her lips pull back off her teeth. She had always hated being reduced to that, and her feelings on the matter hadn’t changed in the years that she and Kaz actually had been something to each other, however complicated and special that thing was. “You say that again and I will cut your tongue out,” she snarled.

“Okay,” Espen pulled back in surprise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” he sighed. “I’m really sorry. I keep saying the wrong thing these days and I’m not sure why.”

“Have you ever considered thinking before you speak?” Inej asked, not even trying to hide her sarcasm. “It works wonders.”

“I’m just so frustrated all the time,” Espen said, running a hand through his hair. Inej suppressed a sigh. The last thing she was in the mood for right now was listening to a cocky kid whine about his problems. She was pretty sure she’d liked Espen better when he was an angry preteen who would punch anyone who said something he didn’t like.

“I don’t want to cause so many problems,” Espen went on. “But it just happens. I can’t help it. I think it might be that teenage angst, everyone’s always going on about. What do you think?”

“I really wouldn’t know.”

“I’m bothering you, aren’t I?” Espen asked. “You’re trying to figure out how that safe house got compromised, aren’t you?”

“Are you supposed to be working?” Inej asked instead of answering.

“Yeah, probably,” Espen made a face. “But Roeder and Minna can handle it for a minute.” he sobered. “You know, Inej, I know that I’m your biggest suspect in this. You don’t have to pretend I’m not.”

He wasn’t wrong. Espen and Kaz had been having problems for months. Even if it was just “teenage angst” as Espen suggested, he might have mentioned something to the wrong people out of spite. Inej said nothing.

“I know I’ve been cruddy recently,” Espen said. “I can’t deny that Kaz frustrates me sometimes. A lot of the time, actually. We got off on the wrong foot, all those years ago, back when I joined the Dregs. He was so distant and it seemed like the rest of us were doing all the work while he just sat around. I understand now that he was sick, that he couldn’t help it, but I was a kid at the time and I didn’t get it. I guess part of me never got over that and now every time something mildly inconveniencing happens I want to blame him for it. I know it’s not fair, but I don’t know how to stop.”

“Where are you going with this, Espen?” Inej asked.

“I guess I’m just trying to say that no matter what differences the Boss and I might have, I’d never do anything to hurt him,” Espen said. “I’m not a fool. The Dregs is the only family I’ve got, and I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

He seemed serious enough. Inej had never known the youngest spider to lie; if anything he’d always been too open about everything. “I’ll keep that in mind,” She said after a moment. “Now you should get back to your job. Minna and Roeder are probably waiting for you.”

“Do you want to come with us?” Espen asked. “With your help it’ll probably only take us an hour or so.”

“No, I think the three of you can more than handle it,” Inej said. She could never decide if she was annoyed Kaz had never gotten her help when she’d been his spider or if she was proud he’d needed three people to fill her shoes. “I have other things to be doing.”

“Alright,” Espen said. “Have a nice night.” Then he turned, got a running start, leapt to the nearest building and vanished into the night. Inej watched him go then turned back towards the Church of Barter and her thoughts.


	2. Conversation Two: Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik and Sander Van Aakster

Jesper was extremely thankful Nina staying with him and Wylan. Jesper had missed her fiercely over the years she’d been gone. She’d started writing letters in more recent years, but in the months directly after she’d left Ketterdam it had been like she’d left the city and vanished from the world. While Jesper had loved helping Wylan rescue his mother and settle into his position as head of House Van Eck, that first year had been lonely. Nina and Inej were gone, Kaz was pretending not to know him and the rest of the Dregs hadn’t known what to do with Jesper’s new status as the boyfriend of a member of the Merchant Council.

Still things had eventually gotten better. Jesper’s closest friends in the Dregs had gotten over their fear that he’d suddenly become honest and started to visit the house and invite him out again. Inej had dragged Kaz back into Jesper and Wylan’s acquaintance by his ear and basically threatened him into visiting them until he got used to it and started doing it on his own. When she’d returned to the seas, Inej had started writing letters to them, describing the less sensitive parts of her mission. Things were good.

The only person who hadn’t found their way back was Nina. It took years for her to finally write, and once she did she steadfastly refused to visit. Having her back in Ketterdam was something Jesper had long since given up hope for, but now they had it. She’d been staying at the Van Eck house with them and now that she was here she was more than willing to tell them everything about what had happened to her.

Jesper, Wylan and Nina were hanging out in Wylan’s office. Officially, Wylan and Jesper were doing the books for the Van Eck businesses, but unofficially they were just talking. Nina was just telling a silly story about introducing her new girlfriend to some Ravkan food Jesper had never heard of when someone knocked on the office door.

“Yes?” Wylan called.

The housekeeper poked her head inside. “Sander Van Aakster is at the door,” she said. “Should I tell him you’re unavailable?”

Excluding Wylan, Sander Van Aakster was the youngest member of the Merchant Council. His father had died only four months before and it was quickly becoming blatantly obvious that Sander was not at all ready to take over the family business. He called on Jesper and Wylan often for advice.

“Let him in,” Nina, who had never met Sander, told Wylan. “I’m sure he’s here for something important.”

“You never know with Sander,” Jesper grumbled, but Wylan was already telling Mrs. Arent to let the merch in.

Sander entered the office in his nervous, twitchy way. He was at least five years older than Jesper was, but his continual air of uncertainty made him seem much younger. He was also probably the only member of the Merchant Council who had nothing to hide, an honor that even Wylan couldn’t claim as that he was secretly a member of the Dregs. Sometimes Sander’s naivete got tiring, but whenever it did Jesper reminded himself that it was always good to have the honest people on your side.

Sander did a visible double take when he saw Nina. “Who’s-”

“This is our good friend Nina,” Wylan said. “She’s visiting Ketterdam. We trust her impeccably; you can talk in front of her just like you were talking to us.”

A less naïve mercher or Barrel rat probably wouldn’t have fallen for that. They would have demanded that Nina leave before they got to business, but Sander hadn’t quite realized just how cut-throat Ketterdam was, so he raised no objection to Nina’s presence and settled in a chair in front of the desk.

“What business?” Wylan asked.

“Did you hear anything about the new _stadwatch_ captain?” Sander said, leaning forward like he was going to hand out a valuable secret.

“Pals is getting fired?” Wylan asked. He sounded hopeful. Pals was the most incompetent of the _stadwatch_ ’s three captains. Wylan had vehemently hated Captain Pals since an incident the winter before when Pals had managed to arrest Kaz and hold him for a few hours while being a spectacularly arrogant ass the whole time.

“That’s what I came here to ask you,” Sander said. “I hadn’t heard anything about any of the _stadwatch_ captains being replaced.”

“Then why do you think there’s going to be a new _stadwatch_ captain?” Jesper asked.

“Councilman Van Dijk was talking about someone coming to help the _stadwatch_ with the new Dregs problem,” Sander said.

Jesper’s stomach sunk. He fought to keep his dismay off his face, and he could tell Wylan and Nina were doing the same. They’d gotten away with their Church of Barter stunt in part because most of the upstanding citizens of Ketterdam were terrified of them now. Someone coming to the city to take control of things could be a disaster.

“Did Councilman Van Dijk tell you who this person was and what they were going to be doing?” Wylan asked in his level “mercher voice.”

“No,” Sander admitted.

“You didn’t ask?”

“No,” Sander blushed furious red. “I may have been eavesdropping.”

Interesting. It appeared Sander Van Aakster had a gutsy side; Jesper wouldn’t have expected that from him. “Who was he actually talking to?” Jesper asked.

“Councilman Schenck,” Sander said. “He was talking about how he was worried that there was no way to keep us safe from the Dregs now, and Councilman Van Dijk said that he knew how to take care of it and suggested bringing in an associate of his.”

“Who’s the associate?” Nina asked.

“He didn’t say,” Sander said. “Councilman Schenck said he’d discuss it with some other members of the Council.”

“Interesting,” Wylan said thoughtfully. He and Jesper both knew that they would hear nothing about this. According to the Kerch constitution, there was no hierarchy to the Merchant Council. In practice, however, there was a very defined hierarchy. People like Van Dijk and Schenck were at the top and Wylan and Jesper were near the bottom due to their--rightly--suspected gang ties. Van Dijk, Schenck and their closest associates were perfectly capable of making decisions which changed the face of Ketterdam without ever bringing the issue before the whole of the Merchant Council.

“So what should we do?” Sander asked. “Do you think I should admit to Councilman Van Dijk that I overheard him and ask him to explain what’s going on?”

“No!” Wylan said. “Don’t do that. Whatever you do, don’t tell him you overheard him.”

“Then what should I do?” Sander asked. He was so trusting. Not for the first time, Jesper mused that it was lucky he and Wylan weren’t Kaz. Kaz would probably con Sander out of his every worldly possession without a flutter of conscience. Sander could have fallen in with far to many people who would use him in Ketterdam; he was lucky he’d fallen in with Jesper and Wylan who were just using him for information and gossip that the merchers clamped up about when the two suspected Dregs were in the area.

“Don’t do anything,” Wylan said. “Jes and I will do some asking around, but there might not be much we can do. Besides, regardless of whether Van Dijk let’s the full Council vote on this, he can’t bring a consultant for the _stadwatch_ in without at least informing us. We’ll know what’s going on eventually. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“Oh, okay,” Sander said. “That makes me feel so much better.” He looked relieved too. Jesper wondered what it was like to grow up in Ketterdam and still be that naive.

“I should probably get going then,” Sander went on. “I have a meeting and I’m sure you have things to do as well.” He got to his feet and straightened his coat.

“Thank you so much for stopping by, Sander,” Wylan said, rising and extending his hand for Sander to shake. “Feel free to stop by anytime.”

“I will,” Sander said. He shook hands with Jesper and Nina as well, and then was gone.

“So the _stadwatch_ getting a consultant really isn’t a problem?” Nina asked once they were sure Sander was long gone.

“Of course it’s a problem,” Wylan said. “But Sander doesn’t need to know that.”

“We’ll have to pass this information on to Kaz,” Jesper agreed. “He and the spiders will be able to figure out some more about this.”

“I can go talk to him,” Nina said. “I was going to take a walk this afternoon anyway; I have a letter for Hanne that I want to post.”

“That will probably be good,” Wylan said. “Kaz will need time to confirm the rumor and then to prepare if it’s true.”

“Yeah,” Jesper said. “The last time the Merchant Council brought someone in to fix things up was long before I came to Ketterdam, but I’m sure Kaz remembers it.”

“I don’t remember it very well either,” Wylan said. “But it’s not like I had anything to do with the gangs at the time. I remember that a lot of people got arrested, though. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Then I’d best be on my way to talk to Kaz,” Nina said. “I’ll see you two at dinner tonight.” and she hurried out of the office, leaving Jesper and Wylan alone.


	3. Conversation Three: Ambroos Baas and Kees Van Dijk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Baas being Baas and for one use of the word "heathen."

To say that the vandalism of the great Church of Barter bothered Ambroos Baas was an understatement. He’d grown up in the countryside hearing stories of the beauty of the Church of Barter in Ketterdam and dreaming of seeing it himself. The first thing he had done upon getting settled into his room at the Geldrenner Hotel was set out to visit the church. The experience had been even more wonderful than he’d imagined it would. He’d almost cried when he’d first entered the church and had spent hours there before he could finally drag himself away to return to the hotel. If he hadn’t believed that Kaz Brekker was a godless heathen before the bastard had vandalized it; he definitely did now.

Baas had spent the entirety of the last few days in his suite on the top floor of the Geldrenner Hotel. This was not necessarily by his own choice; Councilman Van Dijk had put guards outside his door and told him that for his own safety. For the first few days Baas had been so terrified that he had been more than happy to stay put. He couldn’t stop thinking of the way Brekker had snuck inside the suite. He spent the entirety of the first day or two convinced that the Barrel fiend was going to slink into the suite and kill him, but as the days passed and nothing happened Baas’s fear began to fade.

“You wanted to see me?” Van Dijk said, entering the suite. Baas rose and turned just in time to see one of the guards as the door swung closed behind the Councilman.

“Yes,” Baas said. “Thank you for coming. Please, take a seat. Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, that would be fine,” Van Dijk settled down into a chair and watched while Baas rang for coffee and sat down in the opposite chair.

“What did you want to see me about?” Van Dijk said once the coffee had arrived, staring at Baas over the rim of his cup. “Have you encountered a problem?”

“No,” Baas said, suddenly intimidated by the other man. “I was just wondering when I would be allowed to leave this suite?”

Van Dijk’s face tightened. “Is there something that you feel you should be doing instead?”

“Well, my work,” Baas said, slightly surprised that he even had to point it out. “You brought me here to preach to the masses and convert them back to Ghezen, not hide in a hotel room while Ghezen’s church is vandalized. I need to be out there doing something. I need to do my part to right this wrong.”

Van Dijk’s expression was cold as ice. After so many years of holding his own against people who wanted him run out of town before he could disrupt their comfortable lifestyles, Baas considered himself pretty difficult to intimidate, but he still found himself quailing under Van Dijk’s gaze. Kaz Brekker had been terrifying in a monster-in-the-dark sort of way, but Van Dijk’s displeasure could throw Baas to the wolves to be murdered before he even had a chance to begin.

“Do you not trust my judgement about whether or not the situation is safe for you?” Van Dijk asked coolly.

“Of course,” Baas said hurriedly. “I just thought that given the current circumstances I might be able to help. I heard that the common people are too terrified to rise to their duty; perhaps I could do something to stir them up.”

“And what kind of stirring do you think it would be when you walk into the Church of Barter to preach and are immediately shot dead by one of Brekker’s goons?” Van Dijk asked sharply.

“That wouldn’t happen,” Baas said. “Even he wouldn’t dare commit a murder on holy ground.” Even as he said it, he realized how naive those words sounded.

“Of course he would dare,” Van Dijk snapped. “I’m trying to keep you from becoming a martyr to your cause; can’t you make that easier for me?”

Baas knew he shouldn’t argue. He should calmly accept that Van Dijk was doing the right thing, but try as he might he couldn’t stop thinking about the implications Brekker had made about Van Dijk the night he’d broken in. Logically, he knew that Brekker had been lying through his teeth when he said Van Dijk was a bad man, but what if he wasn’t? What if Baas really was being taken in and manipulated by someone who wanted to keep him from fulfilling his sacred mission? Baas had never heard of Van Dijk before the merchant had contacted him, but Baas himself had been gaining some notoriety. How did he know that he hadn’t been lured here to end his important mission?

Baas did not want to think such things about Van Dijk and the fact that Brekker had managed to corrupt him enough that he was thinking them made him angry. “What are you doing to rectify the situation?” he asked, too ashamed of himself to look Van Dijk in the eye. “What is happening while I stay safe in these rooms?”

Van Dijk sighed and ran a hand over his face like he was dealing with a naughty child. “Fine, if you must know; I’m going to bring in a specialist to solve our Dregs problem..”

“I thought I was the specialist,” Baas protested.

“A police specialist,” Van Dijk corrected. “Someone with experience with gangs who can get them under control. I should have brought the two of you in at the same time; then we might have avoided having the Church of Barter mess. Still, I know he can do it. Once he gets things in hand, you will be able to go out and preach.”

“When will he get here?” Baas asked.

“The Merchant Council still needs to vote,” Van Dijk said, “but they will not vote against this. He’ll probably arrive in the city in the next few days.”

Baas relaxed. He’d been worrying for no reason. He just needed to be patient and he would get his chance to preach and do what he’d been brought here to do. He needed to be thankful for the fact that he was safe and wait for the chance to do his part. Ketterdam would be reformed, he just had to be willing to do his part.

“That’s good to hear,” he said. “I’m sorry for doubting you; I know that you’re doing the best you can to change Ketterdam for the better.”

Van Dijk smiled. There was something oddly sharp about it. “That is the goal.”


	4. Conversation Four: Kaz Brekker and Arusi Jelani

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone on a Discord server helped me come up with the name for Jelani’s gang. I don’t have their Tumblr url or AO3 to credit.
> 
> Mentions of sex trafficking and slavery in this chapter.

Darkness settled over Ketterdam like a cloak. This was especially true of the warehouse district where basically no one lived. Theoretically no one but the stadwatch patrols should be there at night, but of course the gangs of Ketterdam did not obey those rules. The warehouses and office building were often the sites of illicit dealings in the night and tonight was no different.

Kaz, Anika and Roeder made their way through the dark streets towards a warehouse which was owned by a minor merchant whose bad habit of leaving his keys lying around meant that every major gang in Ketterdam had copies of his keys. It was a common location for parleys which were unlikely to become violent and need a sniper from above to save the day.

If Kaz had been asked at seventeen, he would have sworn that parleys were on their way out. He was surprised by how well they were hanging on. Of course, there was no longer any expectation that the parties would be unarmed or that they would solve their problems civilly and go out for a drink afterwards, but the general process of meeting up with a member of the other gang backed up by two seconds stayed on.

Tonight was technically Anika’s night off, but she and Pim had switched so she could come along. Pim was a good soldier, but he was taller than Kaz and at least a hundred pounds heavier. He was the sort of person you only brought to a parley when you’d already decided there was going to be a fight. Kaz wasn’t looking for a fight tonight, especially not with Arusi Jelani.

Jelani’s gang, Damnation, wasn’t the only gang in Ketterdam composed only of women, but it was the largest. Of all the other generals in Ketterdam, Jelani was also the most sensible. The fact that she was in league with Inej and took in a lot of the girls Inej rescued who had nothing to return to also helped Kaz’s opinion of her immensely. Of course, she didn’t realize Kaz knew that, because like most of the Barrel, she didn’t realize Kaz and Inej were still in close contact.

Kaz, Anika and Roeder let themselves into the warehouse. Kaz always met Jelani here; it was their mutual way of saying they weren’t planning to attack each other.

Jelani, Brielle Walsh and another woman Kaz didn’t know were already waiting for them. Jelani was leaning against a crate with studied casualness, but Kaz knew she was tense. The Dregs and Damnation had never had more than a few passing spats, but Kaz knew he was more secure in the peace between them than Jelani was. He would never act against Damnation out of respect for Inej and her work, but Jelani didn’t know that. She probably thought Kaz was leaving her alone because he thought Damnation was beneath his notice and she appeared to plan to keep it that way. That was one of the things Kaz respected about her; Damnation was only about a third of the size of the Dregs and a lot of generals were too stupid to realize those were terrible odds.

“Jelani,” Kaz said crossing the room and holding out his hand. “What business?”

Jelani took his hand and shook it firmly. He was wearing his gloves--he always did when he was working--but he was still a little proud that he didn’t have to brace himself for the physical contact. He was getting better. It was slow going--very slow going--but it was happening.

“Brekker,” Jelani said. “Thank you for coming.”

Jelani was a tall, wiry Zemeni woman who dressed even more austerely than Kaz did. There was gray in her dark hair and lines around her eyes and mouth. The first time Kaz had met her he’d estimated the age difference between them was similar to the one between him and his own mother. It was a comparison he’d been trying to forget about ever since. He did not like thinking about his parents anymore than he liked thinking about Jordie.

Arusi Jelani had spent a decent portion of her life indentured to the pleasure houses of the Stave before she’d freed herself and started Damnation. The stories about how she’d done that were as varied and exaggerated as Kaz’s own mythos. Fortunately, Kaz made it his business to know everything about everyone of import in Ketterdam so he knew that Jelani and Brielle Walsh--Jelani’s second in command and lover--had killed the matron of their pleasure house and pinned it on the Liddies. When the Black Tips--who had owned the pleasure house--had retaliated a gang war had broken out and Jelani, Walsh and the other women had been forgotten in the shuffle. It had been all been very clever and well executed and, as far Kaz knew, Geels--who had taken over the Black Tips shortly after Kaz took over the Dregs--had never figured out what had really happened. That was what had told Kaz Jelani was the sort of person to look out for. And he had. The only thing he hadn’t been able to figure out was if the rumors that she was Inferni were true. Annoyingly, if Inej knew she wasn’t telling.

“What did you want to talk about?” Kaz asked.

“The Merchant Council voted to bring in a specialist after your stunt with the Church of Barter,” Jelani said. “Did you hear that?”

“Of course,” Kaz said. If he’d been meeting any general but Jelani he would have made a dig about how he had two spies for everyone of theirs even if that wasn’t necessarily true, but he didn’t need to throw his weight around with Jelani like he did with Geels and the others. He and Jelani both understood the boundaries and didn’t see the need to push them; it was actually quite refreshing.

“I shouldn’t need to remind you what happened the last time the Merchant Council brought a specialist in to clean up the Barrel?” Jelani said.

“You don’t,” Kaz said. “I remember quite well.”

When Kaz had been fourteen, the Merchant Council had brought in a stadwatch captain from Belendt by the name of Stijn Van Berg. The man had organized the stadwatch into a force to be reckoned with and began a massive campaign against the Barrel. That winter had been the last time Kaz had served jail time. He’d broken his leg only a month before Van Berg had come to Ketterdam and had been earning his keep dealing cards in the Dregs’s grungy, nameless gambling den--this was before the opening of the Crow Club. He’d been very bitter about it because Per Haskell and his lieutenants had realized Kaz could control a deck so well that he could decide who would win. There was a lot of money in that; more than enough to keep Kaz at a gambling table for the rest of his life. Kaz had been trying to figure out how to get himself back onto the path of leadership he’d been on before he’d been running too fast, stepped in the wrong place and fallen off a roof. When Van Berg’s soldiers had stormed the gambling den, Kaz hadn’t been able to run because of his leg and he’d been arrested.

He’d spent two weeks in Hellgate. Then Van Berg had thankfully gotten delusions of grandeur and tried to clean the merchers up too. The Merchant Council hadn’t liked that and within weeks Van Berg had hung alongside the very criminals he’d worked to apprehend. In all the chaos, Kaz and a number of Hellgate’s other inmates had managed to escape and flee back to the safety of the Barrel. They’d been the lucky ones; at least half the people arrested a long with Kaz had died in Hellgate, no one caring that the man who had arrested them had been declared a traitor to Kerch.

“Then you know why this is a problem,” Jelani said. “We don’t want to repeat of the Van Berg fiasco.”

“Your stupidity is going to get us all arrested,” Walsh snarled from her position, seated on a crate just behind Jelani. Her dark red hair was shaved close to her head and so many tattoos decorated her arms it was hard to pick out her Damnation tattoo. “You’ve never been one for public protest; why didn’t you just rob Van Dijk blind and leave it at that?”

“So you wouldn’t retaliate if someone tortured one of your youngest members to death and hung them up on a wall to taunt you?” Kaz asked, his voice kept level with years of practice.

“Of course we would,” Jelani said, the implied  _ “but we don’t think you would” _ hung in the air unspoken. It was an unfriendly reminder that while he got on with Jelani and Walsh better than he did most of the generals and lieutenants in Ketterdam, they still viewed him as a monster lurking in the dark. That reminder would have filled him with vindictive pride as a teenager, but now it just made him tired. That was worrying because he needed people to fear him; if they didn’t he’d be dead.

“Then you’ll just have to trust that I know what I’m doing,” Kaz said. He wasn’t going to admit that he was surprised by this turn of events. He’d known the Merchant Council would retaliate, but he figured they’d do that by unleashing Baas. Kaz was fairly sure that given enough time and reveals, Baas could be convinced Van Dijk was a bad man and abandon his cause. Apparently, Van Dijk was fairly sure of that too or he wouldn’t be bringing someone else in.

“That’s rather hard to do when what you’re doing seems to be screwing us all over,” Walsh snapped.

“Not saying we don’t like what you did to the Church of Barter,” Jelani said. “We do. It’s making the merchers truly look at their lives for the first time; we’re just not convinced you have a plan to deal with what comes after. This does none of us any good if we all end up hanging.”

“I have a plan,” Kaz said. “I always have a plan.” He didn’t have a plan, but he would soon; imminent danger was good for coming up with ideas. He’d held onto his position in Ketterdam this long; Kees Van Dijk, a delusional preacher and this unknown stadwatch specialist would not be the end of him.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Walsh said in a tone of voice that suggested she didn’t really believe him. That was fine. Kaz was used to this sort of thing.

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?” he asked.

“No,” Jelani said. “Brielle and I mostly just wanted to make sure you hadn’t taken leave of your senses, though, honestly, I’m not sure we’d be able to tell if you had.”

Kaz gave her his best and cruelest Dirtyhands grin. “Well, I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about,” he tipped his hat to them, “good day,” and left.

He had to figure out what to do about this specialist.


	5. Conversation Five: Maxim Vasilyev, Kees Van Dijk and members of the Merchant Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Literally everyone in this chapter is a legitimately terrible person.
> 
> Well, I finally got around to writing this part. I'm going to attempt to get back to working on this series more regularly.
> 
> This chapter references something that happens in a Before chapter of my Grishaverse Big Bang fic (How to Save a Life). At some point I might try to rewrite that plot point (ie the first time Kaz was arrested) without the AU part of the plot (I actually do like exploring Kaz's life after Jordie dies), but idk when/if that will happen.

Ketterdam was exactly the kind of shithole Vasilyev had always assumed it would be.

He wrinkled his nose as he stepped off the barge which had carried him into the city from the countryside estate where he’d spent the last few weeks finalizing his plans. Ketterdam smelled like shit and something rotten--perhaps the inhabitants’ souls. The Merchant Council had chosen a truly impressive dock near their building for him to disembark, but that hadn’t stopped him from seeing the rest of the city as he’d floated through. Put kindly, it was a dump heap, but it was a dump heap Vasilyev was going to rule. The Merchant Council might not realize it, but they were sitting on a powder keg. The people of Ketterdam--even the ones with no connections to the gangs--had reason to hate them; all Vasilyev had to do was get control of the gangs and the Merchant Council would topple easily and the people would accept his leadership.

The dock was empty save for the lean, intimidating figure of Kees Van Dijk. Van Dijk had wanted to gather the whole Merchant Council to meet him, but Vasilyev had refused. It would not do to seem too ambitious too early on. The Merchant Council spoke the language of greed and ambition and after the fiasco of the last time they’d brought in someone to fix their gang problem, they would be on the look-out for any indication that Vasilyev was going to turn on them. He would have to be careful with how he played this, but fortunately he was nothing if not well-prepared.

“Well?” he asked Van Dijk.

“I have a few members of the Merchant Council who are in full support of our supposed mission waiting in a meeting room inside,” Van Dijk said. “You’ll address the full Council later this afternoon.”

“Good,” Vasilyev said, shouldering his leather satchel which contained all his books full of notes. He wasn’t stupid enough to write his plan down anywhere, but he also didn’t trust himself to remember all his years of research with no aids. He turned to the four members of the group--gang if he was being honest--that he’d brought with him. “You know what to do,” he said. They all nodded and two left the barge and headed out into the city.

“What are they doing?” Van Dijk asked, obviously put off to be out of the loop. Vasilyev had recruited Van Dijk by promising him greater wealth and business opportunities when Vasilyev came to power. Obviously, that wasn’t necessarily true, but it would not do for Van Dijk to realize that too soon. A good portion of the next few weeks were going to be spent stroking Van Dijk’s ego, something Vasilyev wasn’t looking forward to in the slightest.

“I just want them to get a feel for the city,” Vasilyev said airily. “Guidebooks can only tell you so much. Now should we get on to this meeting?”

Van Dijk nodded, soothed, and led the rest of them into the building.

~~~~

Unsurprisingly, the members of the Merchant Council Van Dijk had drummed up as supporters were the oldest, richest and sourest Kerch had to offer. Vasilyev would look forward to deposing them. He made no effort to remember their names when they were introduced.

“So, gentlemen.” he said, leaning back casually in his chair and sipping the coffee they’d offered him. “What exactly is you problem?”

One, a crotchety old councilman Vasilyev was thinking of as Councilman Three, gave him a look. “Councilman Van Dijk told us you had already been thoroughly informed of the duty you have been brought here to perform.”

If only they knew how thoroughly. “Oh, I have,” Vasilyev said with easy confidence. “But I want to hear it in your own words.”

“It’s the gangs,” The one he was thinking of as Councilman Two said. He was probably the youngest of the three, but was still older than Van Dijk was. “They threaten the health, welfare, productivity and profit of our fair city.”

From what Vasilyev had seen Ketterdam was far from fair, but he didn’t comment.

“Specifically, the problem is with the Dregs,” Councilman One said. “I assume you’ve heard of their blasphemous display with the Church of Barter.”

“The whole world’s heard of it,” Vasilyev said, which was perhaps unwise but worth it to see the council-members flinch. That was not at all how they wanted their city to be seen.

“Kaz Brekker is out of control,” Councilman Three said in a rush, his liver-spotted face getting red. “We tolerated him while he was just a Barrel boss, but now he dips his fingers into every aspect of our businesses and slithers like an insect where he is not wanted. He defiles out sacred spaces. Our children tell scare stories about him. ‘You better be good,’ they tell each other, ‘Or Dirtyhands will come in the night and cut your guts out.’ He has made himself a god,” he spat. “He needs to be put down.”

The councilman’s rant was entertaining. Vasilyev could see how useful Ambroos Bass was going to be if people like this were what stood in his way. “I have heard some things,” he said, trying to sound like he was being carefully thoughtful. “But it’s very hard to separate fact from fiction where Brekker is concerned. What can you tell me about him? Just so I know what I’m up against.”

“We actually do have a record of him from when he was younger,” Councilman Two said. “He was picked up during a raid a few months after the Queen’s Lady Plague died down, but escaped before he could be sent do Hellgate.”

“If only he hadn’t escaped,” Councilman Three muttered.

“He gave his name and birthdate on the record,” Councilman One picked up the explanation. “So the  _ stadwatch _ used that as the basis for the file they keep on him.”

“It’s still dubious, though,” Councilman Two said. “The birthdate on that record puts him at seventeen when he took over the Dregs, which seems outrageously young.”

“It does,” Vasilyev agreed. He had, in fact, seen the record in question and knew that Brekker had given the correct birthdate. Given how young and scared he’d probably been at the time that record had been filled out, Brekker was probably lucky he’d had the sense not to give his family name and birthplace too. Whenever he started feeling overwhelmed by the nature of his task, Vasilyev reminded himself of this because it meant that Kaz Brekker made mistakes.

“Regardless of his age he’s been running the Dregs for six years,” Councilman Three said. “At first, the other gangs were more confrontational, but now they’re not. The inter-gang violence in the Barrel is actually way down because no one wants to step on the Dregs’ toes.” He said that like it was a bad thing, which it probably was for the merchants, given the gangs probably had more time to focus on robbing them now. It was a good thing for Vasilyev because it meant the other gangs were probably chafing under the Dregs’ thumb and would turn against them if ever given the chance, even if less violence was helpful for them. People were inherently greedy. This was something Vasilyev--who had long since accepted that he was inherently greedy--had learned that at a young age. Once you knew that it was easy to manipulate people into giving you power.

“So what is it you want me to do?” he asked as if he actually cared what they wanted.

“We want Kaz Brekker to hang,” Councilman Three said. “We want him to go on trial and be found guilty of his many crimes before the whole of Ketterdam and then we want him to die.”

An unsurprising request and one that was actually on Vasilyev’s agenda as well. Only a fool would depose Kaz Brekker and then leave him alive to plot revenge, and Vasilyev was no fool.

“That’s doable,” Vasilyev said, letting them see his confidence in Brekker’s inevitable demise. “And once Brekker is gone?”

“Then the gangs,” Councilman One picked up. “We want the city cleaned of their filth. Ketterdam will become an upright city with no reprobates to steal our Ghezen-given profit.”

“Again, possible,” Vasilyev said, which was more of a lie. He didn’t think it was possible to get rid of the gangs all together--they were an older and more integral part of Ketterdam than the Merchant Council was--but he did plan to drastically overhaul the way they worked so he could use them to take and maintain control. “But you are aware that it will be hard to find a judge willing to convict Brekker. From what I’ve heard there isn’t a judge in the city who would dare move against him.”

The council-members’ faces soured. They obviously knew that all too well.

“There is an old law that might help us there,” Van Dijk said, just as Vasilyev had instructed before they’d entered this meeting room. “If we were to name Mr. Vasilyev Protector of the City in this time of crisis, then he would have the power to try and sentence Brekker himself. We wouldn’t have to worry about any judges.”

“I have never heard of this law,” Councilman One said slowly.

“It’s a very old law,” Van Dijk said. “It doesn’t surprise me that it has fallen out of common knowledge. I only discovered it while doing research on the history of our great city.” Actually Vasilyev had discovered it while doing research on the history of Ketterdam, but Van Dijk was vain enough not to have a problem with lying as long as it made him look good. “I brought copies so you can study the wording,” he said, drawing some papers out of his briefcase and passing them out.

Vasilyev internally snorted. Inspecting the wording of those papers would do the council-members no good because that wasn’t the real wording. Vasileyev had had one of his associates subtly rewrite the document in those copies to obscure some things, namely that the Protector of the City had power over everyone in the city, including the Merchant Council. The Merchant Council would never go for something like that, so they couldn’t be allowed to know about it. That was also why Van Dijk was the one proposing it. Vasilyev was an outsider so if he’d brought it up they might have been suspicious and done their own research, but Van Dijk was one of them so it would never cross their minds that he might be working against them. They would trust the sheet they had just been handed was the real one and never think to check it for themselves until it was too late.

“This looks upfront,” Councilman One said after a while. “This is very useful, Kees.”

“This appears to be the solution to all our problems,” Councilman Three said. “Though the whole Merchant Council will have to vote.” Councilman Two nodded in agreement. They were all taken in like gullible puppies.

Vasilyev hid his grin behind his coffee cup.


End file.
